


Everyone Does It, Cas

by allthebeautifulthings9828



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Castiel Angst, Dominant Castiel, Explicit Sexual Content, Fallen Castiel, Human Castiel, Love, M/M, Oblivious Castiel, Oral Sex, POV Castiel, Post Episode: s08e23 Sacrifice, Sexual Fantasy, Shower Sex, Submissive/Bottom Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-02
Updated: 2013-06-02
Packaged: 2017-12-13 17:41:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/827024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allthebeautifulthings9828/pseuds/allthebeautifulthings9828
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Still in the honeymoon phase of a new relationship, Castiel is having trouble understanding his body's urges when Dean is busy with a case. Dean, in his usual blunt way, tells Castiel to handle the frustration himself. It seems so wrong to the former angel, but he wants to learn human life. What will he do without Dean?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Everyone Does It, Cas

"Are you gonna do this every day?" Dean asked through the mirror at Castiel kneeling on the bed behind him.

"Your morning routine fascinates me."

Watching him get dressed and make his hair look 'accidentally' messy with a waxy product hadn't grown tiresome for Castiel yet, especially the last few mornings that required Dean to wear his cheap FBI suit. Observant blue eyes quietly followed Dean's hands around his waist as he sent the belt through each loop. The cheap suit hugged him a little too tightly those days since eating at home added a few pounds to his muscular frame.

There was no time to get a new suit. A string of deaths by drowning caught Dean's attention and he guessed another aquatic ghost in the nearby river was taking revenge. Castiel noticed a flush of faint color now that the excitement of a new case found him, despite Sam still being too weak to hunt. Dean seemed content - as content as a restless Winchester could be - and Castiel liked the flush of color in his skin. It reminded him of the reddish tint that overtook Dean in the last moments before his body shook and jerked under the releases that Castiel gave him.

"Gimme my tie there," said Dean.

The absent, gruff order startled Castiel out of some sort of peculiar cloudy mind. His human brain frustrated him the way it wandered into thoughts beyond his control. As he grabbed the tie draped over the headboard and handed it to Dean, he wondered if humans even knew how little control they had over themselves. The last thing he knew, he simply watched Dean slide a belt around his waist, and then suddenly, his distracted brain ricocheted him back to three nights prior when Dean came especially hard under his touch. He finally felt like he was getting the hang of physical love and there was a strange bewitching kind of power in making Dean lose control of his senses like that. In truth, Castiel found his brain drifting back to that moment the longer they went without having sex again. Dean was entirely focused on his case, and rightly so, but they never went that long without it before.

Dean deftly flipped the tie around his neck and began a knot at his throat. "Thanks for hangin' back with Sammy today. Make sure he eats something. You know how to heat up a can of soup, right?"

Focus, Castiel. "Low heat on the stove. Intermittently stir it." He repeated one of Dean's cooking lessons word for word.

"Good. Call me if his fever gets any higher. He's not too bad now, but if it shoots up real sudden, dump him in the bathtub with cold water. Don't let it get any higher."

"I understand, Dean." He knew Sam needed looking after but it only resonated as a distant thought further away in his mind. Yesterday, Castiel experienced agitation for no logical reason. Today, he couldn't seem to focus on anything. Perhaps he was falling ill now that he was human and susceptible to the weaknesses of that species. He rubbed his eyes and took a breath. That felt good for the moment. Brief clarity surfaced.

"What's with you?"

As Dean turned, facing him on the bed, Castiel rose up on his knees and stared him down with the intensity and way-too-close-proximity that he unknowingly showed as an angel. That morning, though, he seemed to mean it. Dean's mouth twitched questioningly, those smooth lips that shined where his tongue grazed the skin. Heat spread through him and he suddenly recognized the reason behind his agitation and lack of focus. How fascinating that the desire for coupling affected a human body's other senses. If he wasn't so fixated on the sliver of Dean's tongue showing between his teeth, he might have analyzed the biology of it further. It didn't matter though. Dean's tongue mattered. Dean's stubble mattered. Dean's scent mattered.

"Cas?" Dean's head tilted forward and his brow raised in suspicion.

Cas swallowed despite his throat being dry. "Do you … Perhaps you could delay your witness interview."

Shaking his head, Dean backed away and grabbed his jacket. "Can't. Already late."

"Dean, I don't think you understand," said Castiel as he snatched a fistful of Dean's shirt sleeve and yanked him back.

The abrupt pulse of aggression stunned Dean for a moment and he stumbled into Castiel, who captured his strong face in his hands and ardently kissed him. Automatically, Dean's arm slid around Castiel's waist and his intrigue showed as their tongues slid wetly in time with each other. A hot rush of blood drummed through Castiel's body straight to his groin - a sensation that alarmed him the first time they'd kissed, but one that he'd since come to expect with delicious anticipation. This was it. He knew he was going to get his way. Blessed relief was on the horizon.

Quite painfully, Dean pulled away with a loud smacking sound as neither of them had let go of the kiss. "I can't," he said through ragged breath.

"But Dean…"

"I have to work." To emphasize the point, his palm flattened against Castiel's chest and pushed him back on his haunches, away from him. "I'll be back tonight."

"Dean, I can't wait that long." The strain in Castiel's voice surprised even himself. He found this biological reaction completely ridiculous, but if he didn't couple soon, he actually feared for his sanity. Were all humans so consumed by mating?

Dean swung the jacket around his broad shoulders, obviously attempting not to look at him. "Then handle it yourself. I gotta go."

"Handle it myself? I don't understand that reference. I need you." Frustration bordered on desperation and anger. It wasn't logical.

In the doorway, Dean lingered as if knowing he'd give in if he stayed much longer. "No, you don't always need me. We're not always gonna have time for each other," he explained. "Sometimes a man's just gotta handle it himself when the urge hits. You'll go nuts if you don't. Trust me."

A miserably blank stare showed Castiel still didn't understand. Sighing impatiently, Dean backtracked and simplified it. "People do it to themselves." He showed his hand to illustrate. "You follow?"

"I believe so." It didn't make sense to him to commit the act of love without the person he loved. That was what such relations were designed for, aside the obvious need for breeding more human offspring. Dean was his touchstone of human behavior, though, and he wouldn't steer him into something harmful.

"See ya later, Cas." Dean disappeared down the hall, leaving him alone and still as frustrated as he was yesterday, perhaps more.

It was not a good day to be human. He didn't like so much emphasis placed on the body but the body demanded it. He had more pressing matters at hand, like Sam being ill, and research to do about his condition. It amazed him that humans without mates could function very long at all. No wonder Dean had been so astonished to learn Castiel was a virgin before he was made human by force.

Dean's head popped around the doorway again, startling Castiel. "Stop thinking about it. Just do it. Everybody does. It's not a big deal."

"You do?"

"Sure I do."

A twinge of uncertainty pricked at the former angel. Perhaps he didn't please Dean as much as he thought he did.

"Sometimes a guy just needs quick stress relief." He shrugged, as if knowing the insecurity Castiel felt, and passed it off as nothing serious. A quick glance at his watch and he continued, "If I could stay, I would. I'm stupidly late already." A wicked smile tugged the corner of his mouth and a new surge of static attacked Castiel without warning. "Whether you do it or chicken out, I'm gonna think about you today. That's the fun part. Use your imagination for the things you want, you know, with sex."

"I want you," Castiel replied with the kind of helpless innocence that was inherent to his novice human experience but that he didn't consciously recognize.

Dean's face hardened and he nodded. "Then think about me. It's easy."

With that, he was gone again. Castiel heard the bunker door open and close, and he knew it was for real that time. The conversation left him more confused about human behavior than normal, or maybe he just couldn't think straight. He decided to put the matter out of his mind, resolutely determined not to become a hairless ape with no self-control. Dean would be home after dark and he could exercise his love for him then. He had been a complex celestial being, after all. This body of his was not going to rule his whims when he had serious responsibilities.

Castiel climbed off the bed, feeling his half-hard cock suffocating in his jeans. Ignore it and it'll go away, he told himself. At least it didn't show. Much. He untucked his shirt in the mirror and draped it over his hips, which completely distracted the eye.

Quietly, he made his way down the hall and opened Sam's door with intentional silence. The younger Winchester filled his bed like a pile of old rags with a long arm flung over the side and uncombed hair spread in every direction. His face shined with feverish sweat. Castiel approached and pressed a palm to Sam's forehead but found no change in the fever. Although quite pale, his pulse felt steady and he breathed slowly and deeply with the relaxation of human sleep. It seemed his body just needed rest, but the watcher made plans to feed him at noon. As quietly as Castiel slipped into Sam's room, he slipped out of it.

He decided to follow his own morning routine. Much like watching Dean's, it hasn't yet lost its novelty. He flipped on the television in passing and listened to the morning news on CNN while setting up a new pot of coffee in the kitchen. More war, more killing, more needless human suffering, yet he listened to the news every day. The responsibility he felt as a guardian of humanity hadn't faded with his angelic powers.

The coffee percolated away and Castiel left the news blaring as he headed for the bathroom. Perhaps he finally shook off the animal urges prone to his new species. But no. The moment he congratulated himself, he thought of Dean making the promise to think of him during his day. A pulse of need constricted him in his jeans. It felt almost painful but not in an unpleasant way. He stopped in the bathroom doorway, afraid of the instability in his legs. If Dean had given him ten more minutes, this wouldn't still be a distraction.

Still determined to ignore it or simply put it off until the Impala rumbled outside, he peeled off his clothes for a shower. One of the things he did enjoy about being human was standing under hot water. Even if he suddenly became an angel again, he thought he would still enjoy that habit.

But that day, there was nothing relaxing about it. From seeing his own cock trying to win the battle of full arousal to being all too sensitive to the hot water streaming down his skin, it all seemed like his body was out of control. Castiel roughly palmed shampoo into his scalp and rinsed it out, deciding the shower was a bad idea after all. He soaped up as quickly as he could just to get it over with, but part of proper human hygiene meant washing the one place he didn't want to touch.

Castiel stopped rushing, stood perfectly still under the shower head with a hand braced on the tiled wall, and concentrated on breathing. Think about me then, echoed in his mind. Just the memory of Dean's voice in its darkness and gravely tones made his cock twitch in response. He didn't know what Dean meant by thinking of him or using his imagination. The only thing in the world that he wanted in that moment was that man in the shower with him. He closed his eyes to steady himself but the rolling of his stomach told him he was beyond the point of absolute power.

In the darkness of his closed eyes, Dean materialized before him. Shower water dripped from his hair along the lines of his angular face and along the strength of his broad chest. The image of Dean took the washcloth from Castiel without a word and squeezed it against his throat so the water flowed straight down his body. Everywhere along Castiel's human chest, Dean's image washed, though it wasn't so much washing as caressing. His breath shortened and quickened as the washcloth slopped on the shower floor, replaced by Dean's calloused, large hands. Abdominal muscles jumped with his anticipation.

"Dean..." he whispered with a hint of a pleading moan.

His conjured lover's hand circled around his furiously agitated cock and pulled a long, slow stroke. A groan of relief escaped Castiel's swollen lips, and as he caught a glimpse of himself through hazy half-closed eyes, he realized it was his own hand working him over. It didn't matter. The second he closed his eyes again, Dean reappeared. Learning his own human body took the shape of the one he loved the most, the one who taught him how to feel, to rebel, and to do what he pleased.

Imaginary Dean slid his hand up and down Castiel's length, so easily predicting the rhythm and pressure he needed. Knowing it was himself acting under instinct did little to diminish the desire raging through him for the hunter out there somewhere interrogating people. Faster his wrist flicked until short breathless moans swam around the shower. The brief memory of Dean pressing the sensitive skin at the base of his balls made him slide his other hand in the same manner. A sharper moan erupted in time with the intense jolt of delicious aching through his body. He was close. So close.

As if obeying some wordless command of his subconscious, the image of Dean, slick with hot shower water, sank to his knees. Castiel watched hungrily as Dean's tongue flicked and teased the head of his cock. The mixed sensation of his soft lips and hard teeth grazing the shaft as he took him into his mouth never failed to blur Castiel's mind with unbridled want. Long, full passes of Dean's warm mouth soon pushed him over the edge. White hot electricity ignited every nerve ending in Castiel's body. He tensed and bit his lip so hard that his tooth cut through the skin. Relief sent him sailing over the cliff and a drawn out dark groan shot from his mouth as streaks of come shot into the shower drain.

"Dean. Dean," his final moans sharply muttered, only mildly aware of being alone.

As the aftershocks subsided, he slumped sideways against the shower wall and tried to recover his breath. The relief was immediate, he noticed, once his thoughts became coherent again. Already his the day seemed clearer. He smiled at himself though he didn't really know why.

The only thing missing was Dean. So it was true that it relieved his stress, but it was even more true that nothing compared to the real Dean being with him.

Still a bit shaky from his orgasm, he quickly finished washing since he'd been in the shower so long that the water turned cold. He wrapped a towel around his waist and trekked back to the bedroom for clean clothes. Instead of getting dressed, though, he sat on the edge of the bed and unplugged his new iPhone on the nightstand. He didn't quite know how to use it yet, especially with fingers too big for the touch screen, but he opened the texting window.

You were right, he typed in a single text to Dean. Come home soon.

Castiel could almost see Dean's smug grin of satisfaction as he read the text. That was the great thing about having a free imagination. He could see anything he wanted.


End file.
